Lounging on a ridiculously expensive leather couch, one arm lazily draped over the back and the other holding a remote, I could barely relax.
The mansion was mine. Bought on an island that once belonged to a billionaire on the East Coast. It was an off-the-grid vacation home Mindy had bought for me.
I didn’t want to know how much it must have cost.
It seemed our raw materials business was soaring. According to Mindy we were making a killing just from steel alone, not even talking about the gold and some of the rare-Earth materials now.
The house was glorious, but it felt oh so empty. It was stocked with good food, had a 120-inch TV, and most importantly no cops were kicking down the door.
Or Prismatic Guards. But with Stiff it could be either or both.
I still felt uncomfortable in this relative safety. I needed a proper base, one armed with cannons, turrets, laser weaponry, and any other goodies I could get my hands on with my Power of Manifestation.